Bio

einhard began his life in the city of Lockwood. Life was not easy being a blue collar family in a major scientific hub, but his family was able to make a living. For Reinhard, being looked down on from the more well-to-do families of scholars did not sit well. In an attempt to prove himself as an equal to the sciencemice, he broke into a lab and began experimenting with the various items he found in the lab. He wound up brewing a concoction that attracted a groundhog. It took two patrols of Mouse Guard to lure the beast away, but no one ever discovered where the strange scent had come from. Displeased with life in Lockwood and impressed by the Guard who came, he made a brash decision to join the Mouse Guard.

The Cathedral was a source of amazement to the young Reinhard. A place of beauty, of simplicity, but equally as much a fortress. How could something so beautiful and impressive serve such a purpose?

It was in the Cathedral that Reinhard learned what he believed to be is true calling, watching the weather. He found that he could pick up on the patterns easily, caught on to using the equipment naturally, and was exceptional at collecting and logging the vital weather information. It was the weather that brought him to Ealdwig.

Wanting to achieve a greater understanding of insects and their part in the prognostication of the weather, he studied under Ealdwig. Rumor had it that Ealdwig could talk to the bees, but he never imparted this knowledge to the young Reinhard. The information he learned in his time in the apiary was nonetheless vital to his weather watching skill.

Soon the time had come, the call of the sword and the trail could not be ignored. His new mentor terrified young Reinhard. Sigmund was an armored behemoth which belied every notion of how he thought to operate. How can something so bright remain unseen? How can the sound of the armor not give away your position? How can you remain unencumbered by such weight?

Sigmund answered all of his questions and more. Nothing could prepare him for the harsh drilling, the repeated swordplay and the seemingly pointless meditation. Sigmund was building a mouse that could continue through anything, and he would soon need it. He tried to warn the mice of Pictun that a harsh winter would follow. They ignored him. Eighteen mice died that winter. Sigmund gave him a cloak as pure and white as the snow, to remind him that it isn’t enough just to be right.

On his first patrol as a newly inducted guard mouse, his patrol went to fight in the Eighth Weasel War. In one of their tunnels, his patrol met its end. Those weasels left none standing in their wake. His patrol leader jumped between him and an attacking weasel, ending his friend’s life before his eyes.

Reinhard was now a captive and sent into the depths of a den the weasels had overtaken from some unfortunate animal. It was here that Reinhard saw first-hand the terrible actions of the weasels. They were capturing and breeding mice for food. Herded like cattle in cramped quarters, the mice there simply waited for their turn in the boiling pots of the gruesome kitchen. The strongest ones, they threw into the gladiator pits for their amusement.

Something had to be done. Someone has to free these mice. Someone has to give the vital information of the location of this weasel hold. Someone had to tell of the sacrifice of his patrol. Someone had to save Reinhard… and he figured there was only one mouse that could do that. That someone was himself.

Or so he thought.

Reinhard was thrown into the section of prison reserved for guardmice. THe weasels did not want them influencing the more sedate ‘cattle’. The guardmice needed time to be properly broken before introduction to the pens, and barring that, they were fantastic gladiators. Reinhard, unwilling and unable to give up, managed to escape from his bonds and make his way out of the prison.

Armed only with his now dirty and tattered cloak, he set about his escape. Sneaking worked for a short time, but discovery was inevitable. Running as fast as he could, Reinhard burst into the kitchen area to find a boiling pot and what appeared to be an injured female mouse in a cage. It was obvious why she was there. Unable to accept such a fate, and knowing it would most likely mean his recapture, Reinhard rushed to the cage to free the doomed mouse. He grabbed a large knife from a nearby table and slashed the bonds that held the cage closed.

The mouse looked at him as if he was mad. Having no time for conversation he caught his breath and rasped the word “Run!” before being surrounded by weasels. Determined to hold off the weasels until the female mouse was gone, he stood his ground and resigned himself to the knowledge he would not survive the encounter. The weasels, knowing they had won, began toying with the foolish mouse. What chance had he? One battered mouse against three armed and armored weasels?

Then in a daze, he saw a flash of movement. A small brown mouse dove into the fray. In the slow motion haze as he recovered he saw before him the embodiment of a true warrior spirit. Graceful yet brutal, his savior was throwing an axe it’s own size if not more in elegantly sweeping arcs taking his former attackers by surprise. The dance ended as abruptly as it began. Reinhard stood bewildered at the sight. The mouse he just freed hadn’t run away, but ran to find something to save him with.

Now recovered enough to move, he and his new companion made quick their escape before more weasels arrived. Only after they reached friendly mice did hey stop, and only then did he get a chance to ask her name. Gwynedd... A surprising name to an equally as surprising mouse.

Reinhard spent a long time in recovery at the Cathedral. Though his physical wounds healed, his mental scars were obvious. His superiors decided it was best to keep him there in the hope that after some time had passed, he would be more mentally prepared for patrol duty again. Some of his superiors were not so kind. In this off time, he spent much time with his new found friend Gwynedd as she was teaching him again to be confident, and teaching him the fierce fighting style of the gladiators. For Reinhard, there was little peace. He found solace in training, but he could not stop blaming himself for the death of his patrol. Unfortunately for Reinhard, someone else thought the same and was taking it to the highest authority.

Guard Captain Æðelred blamed Reinhard for the loss of the patrol. How would one mouse be spared lest they are a traitor? And to come back with a spy that freely goes by a weasel name? Surely this mouse is guilty!

Æðelred brought his charges to Matriarch Cynewyn. This was a clear case to him of treachery. On hearing of Reinhard being taken to the Matriarch, Gwynedd rushed to the office. She told a rousing and passionate tale of the horrors of the weasels, and the heroic effort of one young mouse who dared to stop and save a fellow mouse from harm. Those in the room stood speechless at the tale. Cynewyn absolved Reinhard of any wrongdoing, but Æðelred was obviously displeased with this judgment.

Now once again deemed ready for duty, Reinhard awaits the call of his new patrol leader and hopes for a chance to make right in his mind a grievous sin he can not leave behind.

† Note: Gwynedd has a weasel name, so the same pronunciation rules for other mice do not apply. She pronounces her name “GWINN-ith”. Of course, other mice may well see her name written and mispronounce it for that same reason.

Journal

1. Port Guard